


Icarus

by em_gray



Series: AU fic challenge [6]
Category: The Gentleman's Guide to Vice and Virtue Series - Mackenzi Lee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Wings, Angel Wings, Angst, Child Abuse, Graphic Description, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, I swear I was trying to make a fluffy one but, Injury, M/M, Maiming, Near Death Experiences, brace yourselves for the ending, it's uh, not on screen so to say but the effects are described in detail so be careful with that, that's not a tag apparently
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:40:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23217913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/em_gray/pseuds/em_gray
Summary: Obligatory wings AU!
Relationships: Henry "Monty" Montague/Percy Newton
Series: AU fic challenge [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1640491
Comments: 16
Kudos: 31
Collections: TGGTVAV AU Challenge Fics





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pinstripedJackalope](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinstripedJackalope/gifts).
  * Inspired by [The God of Lost Souls](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23032678) by [pinstripedJackalope](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinstripedJackalope/pseuds/pinstripedJackalope). 



> hello!! I'm so happy to be uploading another fic. I got stuck on this one for a pretty long time, then started over and wrote the whole thing in one go. so here we are!! anyway. this is the... sixth? au in the series. I went with the whole mythology thing from pinstripedJackalope's fic The God of Lost Souls, and had some fun with angels/Icarus symbolism. Originally it was going to be fluffy. But. alas.

I’m not sure exactly how old I was when I found out that Monty has wings.

I was too young to think anything of it, anyway. I didn’t find it any weirder than someone having pink hair or an arm full of tattoos or a prosthetic leg, or something like that. My best friend had white bird wings growing out of his back almost as tall as he was, and that was just another part of him. If anything, I thought it was awesome.

Monty’s always been more down to earth about it - no pun intended. Right away, he made me swear not to tell anyone, and I promised. Later I learned his parents were the ones terrified people would find out, and they’d taught their son to share that fear.

I never told anyone. Us sharing such a huge secret honestly felt thrilling for the longest time. Especially because I’ve always been the only one outside of his family who’s known. I’ve covered for him on more than one occasion: backing up his stories of suddenly feeling unwell for gym class, literally picking up after him whenever he was moulting, and in summer, when everyone was going to pool parties or spending late nights at the beach, the two of us would just go hang out somewhere private, where he could take off the longcoat he always has to wear and spread his wings. I’ve always enjoyed the sight of him in moments like that, looking free and careless with the wind in his hair and feathers.

Sometimes it felt like moments like that were the only ones that really mattered to us. Or, to me, at least.

None of that meant Monty never struggled with it, though. Covering them up has always been a hassle, and he says that the cramps of having to keep them close all day long are the worst, and he’s always embarrassed of leaving feathers all over the place every winter and spring. He’s also terrified of water. He claims it’s because of the wings, but I’m fairly certain it’s not.

However, the worst negative side effect, he complains, is that it severely impacts what he can and can’t do during hook-ups.

“Picture yourself in my situation!” he always exclaims, insulted, when I start laughing. “You’re alone in a room with the prettiest girl you’ve ever seen, and both of you are into it, and then she starts taking off her clothes and you have to insist on keeping on a ridiculous longcoat.”

I don’t feel particularly sorry for him.

“Maybe you should only hook up with people who know, then,” I’d suggest.

“That’s only you.” He’d then waggle an eyebrow at me. “Are you volunteering?”

Which makes me rather desperate to put the subject behind us.

I couldn’t tell you how old I was when I fell in love with him, either. I’ve always cared deeply about him, but when those sentiments shifted from platonic to something entirely different… I wouldn’t know. There wasn’t one moment where I wasn’t in love with him, followed by a moment where I suddenly was. It’s all been happening gradually, realization seeping in like rain into soil, droplet after droplet made from quiet conversations and small smiles and catching myself staring at him as he’s looking over the city at night, eyes as blue as the starred sky. Droplet after droplet, until wildflowers started blooming and enraptured me before I even knew what was happening. Or maybe I did. Maybe I couldn’t fight it. Maybe I didn’t want to.

Fact remained that I, as many foolish mortals might, had fallen in love with an angel.

That’s a joke he loves, though. “Whatever force decided I was going to be born with wings must have been seriously out of it,” he always says. “I’m about as saintly as I’m unattractive.” And at that, he flashes me a smile that makes me weak to the knees.

I agree with him, though. He may be as pretty as an angel, but if we’re sticking to mythological figures, I’d see more resemblance with Icarus. Sometimes it feels as though I’m the only one terrified of the heights he flies - figuratively, then. It feels like I hold my breath from the moment he goes home with some guy or girl he just met, until he replies to some random text I sent him the morning after. Whenever I watch him order yet another new drink and don’t have the nerve to stop him. Whenever I find him bruised and beaten after a conversation with his father.

Being in love with Henry ‘Monty’ Montague is an emotional rollercoaster for a great number of reasons.

Speaking of figurative heights - Monty can’t actually fly with his wings. He’s tried a few times, but it’s usually ended with him crashing into the roof, or once, the roof swimming pool. After that he’s given it up for a while.

Though I have to admit circumstances aren’t ideal, either. There’s only that far up one can go before likely drawing people’s attention, as we do live in the middle of a city.

“What would even be the point of being able to fly?” he’s saying to me. We’ve arrived on the roof and he instantly throws off his longcoat. I hear rustling, and when I turn back to him, he’s spreading his wings out as far as he can, stretching. The sight always leaves me gaping a little. “Man, that’s better.” He beams at me. “But seriously. There’s no space around here to fly without being seen anyway.”

“You could always become a masked vigilante,” I suggest.

He grimaces. “Fight crime? Me?”

“Just the mask, then. They can’t come after you if they’ve no idea who you are.”

“You know who _can_ come after me? My Father. So, no thanks.” He sits down on a beach chair next to the pool. “Besides, it’s far too dangerous. What if I fall to my death?”

“You have wings.”

“So? I could suddenly forget how to fly while being a hundred foot in the air. Or I could crash into something. A building. A _plane_. What are you laughing at?”

“It’s a very entertaining mental image!”

“Rude.”

I sit down next to him. The sun is starting to set, and it’s always a sight from up here. Tonight the sky is clear, an explosion of pink and orange, coloring lazy clouds. It’s almost summer, so the breeze up here is a delight.

“What’s even the point of having them at all?”

It takes me a moment to wake up from my own pondering and realize Monty’s said something. I blink at him. “What?”

He lifts his feet onto the chair as well, hugging his knees to his chest. “Don’t you ever… think about it? Why I was born like this?”

I’m not about to claim the question never crossed my mind, but it’s hardly something that kept me up at nights. “Do you?”

He shrugs. “There must’ve been a reason, right? Why… why me.”

“I… don’t know. Maybe there wasn’t.” I look at him, though he’s avoiding my eyes. “What do you think?”

“I don’t know. I suppose I’ll never know. But... “ He scoffs. “If there was a reason, if I was supposed to… be someone, or do something… special, or something… I’m rather disappointing.”

I fully turn to him. “What makes you say that?”

He looks at me from the corner of his eye, then away just as fast. “Nothing. Forget I said anything.”

“Monty…”

“Percy.”

He’s still not looking at me, so I take his chin with one hand and make him meet my eyes. “Monty, darling. You’re not a disappointment.”

“My Father disagrees.”

“Screw him.”

That makes him chuckle. “Yeah,” he says, unconvinced, eyes darting off. “Screw him.”

“Has he said anything to you recently?”

“Maybe.”

“Monty.”

“It’s nothing, okay? Just…” He sits up, then adds in a weary voice: “Things would be a lot easier if I didn’t have these.” He lightly twitches his wings to demonstrate. “They’re really good for nothing.”

“They’re beautiful.”

Monty tenses up. My words hang in the air between us, floating like a feather on the gentle evening breeze. I don’t know why I said it. I just know that I mean it, and I’m bursting at the seams with all the secrets and things I want to say but can’t. Saying this small thing feels like a relief, though a terrifying one.

“I mean it,” I continue. “I won’t claim they don’t make your life harder. But I can’t help but… thinking they’re amazing. Thinking you’re amazing.”

He’s staring at me, wide-eyed. Both of us are frozen in place, barely breathing, and I feel as though we’re lovers pictured in oil paint on canvas, forever stuck in each other’s gaze, cursed to never be able to touch each other. A sudden fear overcomes me, and I move in slowly, as if I’m approaching a scared animal. He watches but doesn’t stop me. I raise my hand, time slowing to a stop around us, and gently brush the back of my fingers against his feathers. A chill goes through me. Our faces are close, and I’m so entranced I can’t even think about what I’m doing. I am no reason, no lucid thought - just a desire and a passion personified.

And at last, he throws his arms around my neck and kisses me.

If I’ve described the evening sky as an explosion before, I take it all back. _This_ is fireworks and suns exploding and planets colliding and feeling whole for the first time in my life. I can’t think straight, all there is, is the _want, want, want_ \- the want to never let him go again, the want to keep kissing him, the want to touch him everywhere, and if I’m to judge by the hunger in his touch or the fervor of his kisses, Monty feels the same. The soft warmth of the evening sun suddenly disappears, and I realize Monty’s got his wings wrapped around the both of us, and I want to stay in this cocoon forever, with him, him, _him_ \- 

I intend to open my eyes only for a moment, but linger as I’m watching him kissing my neck. His face is red, his hair all over the place, his breathing as ragged as mine. We’re surrounded by feathers. And everything about this feels perfect, _too_ perfect, maybe.

As soon as that thought sinks in its teeth, I go cold. My hands fall still on his back. It takes him a few seconds to notice. He stops, then looks up. “Is something… wrong?” he says, completely out of breath.

“No,” I say, and I’m as winded as he is. “Yes. No. I mean... Is-is this just a laugh to you?”

“No,” he says, and it goes through me like a shiver. “Yes,” he adjusts. “I- What do you want me to say?”

 _What do I-_ “Nothing. Forget it.”

“What’s this to you?”

In spite of it being a repetition of a question I myself posed a second ago, it catches me off guard. “I…” and I choke on the words. We’re still a hair’s breadth apart, breathing each other’s air, and he’s still holding me with his wings around me and looking at me big-eyed, and I’m still trying to make sense of his answer. “I…” Because how do I say it? How do I put into words how this is something that I’ve wanted for so long? How do I explain the little vault my heart makes every time I see or hear him? How do I tell him that I’m sick with worry every time he does something reckless, how it always hurts me when I need to pick up the pieces but can’t imagine myself doing anything else?

How can I describe how much he means to me when I can barely fathom that myself?

“I don’t know,” I say, long forgotten the question.

“You don’t know?”

“You didn’t give me a straight answer either!”

“What of it?”

He’s backing away, we both are. He’s folding his wings behind his back, crossing his arms, but he can only move so far with me still on his lap. So I stand up, a bit too abruptly, and my foot gets stuck behind the chair leg. I fall down, my chin meeting the ground harshly. My vision goes white for a moment. I hear Monty stand up behind me and I expect him to come to my aid, but when I stagger back on my feet, he’s still just standing there, his hands folded together in front of his chest.

“Are you… all right?” he asks, voice small.

I swipe across my chin, and my hand comes back bloody. “I’m bleeding,” I say, mostly to myself.

“Oh God.”

“It’s fine.”

“Let me see-”

“I said it’s _fine_ -”

He’s extended a hand, and I bat him away. He recoils. Then he starts to look angry. “What is your problem? God, it was just a kiss!”

“What is _my_ problem? _You’re_ the one freaking out!”

“I’m not-”

I don’t realize I’m taking steps back. I’m trying to stay in control of my anger, trying to be the reasonable one, what I always have to be for Monty, but it’s damn hard right now.

“Can’t we just forget this ever happened?” I say.

“Oh, that bad, was it?”

“That’s not what I’m saying-”

“Then what are you saying?”

“You could find out if you’d just _listen to me_!”

He suddenly lapses into silence. His eyes go big. He’s looking behind me. “Percy,” he says quietly.

“No, Monty, _please_. I…” I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m just… sorry. I shouldn’t have started this. I never should’ve… kissed you.”

“ _I_ kissed you,” Monty says, still anxiously looking behind me. He lifts a hand, and I move back.

“Don’t-” I say.

“Percy, you don’t understand, I need you to come to me-”

“What?”

“I’ll leave if you want to, but you need to-”

“No, just let me say what I have to say, and then I’ll leave, all right? I… I’m going to be honest. That kiss meant something to me. It meant… _everything_. But if this is too much for you, if you don’t feel the same, we can just put this behind us, okay? It’s… It’s fine.”

Monty’s nodding, looking straight-up terrified. “All right. Good. That’s good. Now come here.”

 _… All right? That’s good?_ It hits harder than it should. I feel tears welling up in my eyes but blink them away. “All right then. Then I’ll just…” I take a deep breath. “Leave.”

I turn and take a step.

Only not to find any ground there.

I hear Monty scream. Suddenly I’m weightless, and the edge of the roof shrinks farther and farther away. The sound disappears first. Then everything goes dark.

I wake up in a hospital bed.

It takes me a while to come to my senses. Everything returns to me slowly: first distant sounds, then the realization that I’m lying on something soft. Then that hospital smell that I loathe so much.

I blink open my eyes and stare at the small room for a while. It’s one of the separate rooms of the ER, I recognize it. I’m lying on a bed. I become aware of a throbbing pain in my chin. I lift my hand to it, and feel stitches. Two of them.

The door opens and a nurse enters. “You’re awake,” she says, surprised, and I instantly fear what could possibly be going on that would make my being awake so surprising.

My first thought is that I must’ve had a fit. Then I remember where exactly I hurt my chin.

Then I remember everything else.

“Monty,” I say, gasping.

The nurse sits down at my side. “Do you remember what happened?”

“I… fell.” Images of the evening go through my head at high speed. “How- Why am I not dead?”

It’s a bit of a blunt way to put it, but it seems relevant to know.

The nurse rubs her temple with a disbelieving smile. “It’s all a rather fantastic story,” she says. “Though there’s not much open to doubt. There were dozens of witnesses, and someone got it on camera. It’s all over the news now.”

“What is?” Dread begins to fill me up.

“You were saved by… well, they’re all calling it an angel, but it might as well have been a very large bird. Though I haven’t yet seen the footage myself.”

My heart stops, veins freezing over.

_It’s all over the news._

“Where is he now?” I ask. I sit up too fast, and I’m punished for that with a painful stab through the head. The nurse recoils, blinking at me. “Where’s… who?”

“The person who saved me.”

“I… don’t know. He - or they, or it - flew away as soon as they’d put you down. Standerbys called an ambulance. But the good news is that aside from your chin - how did you hurt yourself there, by the way? - you seem to be perfectly fine-”

“I need to go.”

I stand up, and the room spins for a moment. The nurse is on her feet as well. “I don’t know if that’s-”

But I don’t listen. I just run.

I’ve been pressing the doorbell for at least a full minute when Felicity finally comes to answer. She still has her coat on. Her eyes widen when she sees me. “Percy! Are you all right? I saw the news and- that was you, wasn’t it? There’s no one else Monty would risk so much for-”

“Where is he?” I interrupt.

“I don’t know,” she says. “I only just got home myself. I haven’t seen him since-”

“Where’s your father?”

She struggles for words. “Y… You don’t think…?”

I push past her, entering the house. “MONTY?” I shout.

I get no response, which only feeds the panic building inside me.

I run up the stairs. I pass by his room first, which is empty. _No, no, no, no, Monty, please, please don’t be-_

Monty’s father’s office is on the next floor. I barge in without knocking, and there the bastard is, standing with his back to me in front of the window.

“Where is he?” I gasp, completely out of breath.

I get no response.

“ _WHERE IS HE?_ ” I scream.

He doesn’t even turn to me, doesn’t even acknowledge that I’m there. I want to murder him right there and then, but I have to get to Monty. He needs me.

I realize that the air faintly smells of something burned.

I leave him be, frantically running through the house, looking everywhere and not finding him. Every worst case scenario my brain can helpfully conjure goes through me and I feel as though I’m about to throw up.

I find him on the roof.

At first I don’t recognize him, simply by how small he looks. He’s sitting near the edge that I fell off - _stupid, stupid, stupid, why did I do that?_ \- curled up into a ball. As I come closer, I realize he’s sobbing. He’s wearing his longcoat, but the shape of it on his back is wrong.

Wrong, wrong, wrong.

“Monty,” I say, and he starts, choking on a sob. He doesn’t turn to me. I hesitate. “Can I… sit down with you?”

He nods, though it might just be the motion of him rocking back and forth. “Just stay away from the edge, okay?” His voice is drowning in tears, a faint hint of humor flickering through. “I’m not going to save you again.”

I sit down, two feet away from him and one foot away from the edge. He’s got his legs dangling over, and the sight makes my world tilt.

I don’t know how to start this conversation. I’ve no idea of what to say.

“...You can fly,” I settle on.

He shrugs, though it’s hard to see. He’s trembling all over, and I want nothing more than to hug him and never let go. But I have no idea what he’ll do if I reach out.

“I didn’t know, either,” he says, voice shaky. “But when it came down to it, I… just knew what to do.”

“You saved my life.”

“Yeah. You could’ve died accidentally falling off a building. Would that have been stupid or what?”

I don’t laugh. “Thank you. And… I’m sorry. I can’t believe I wasn’t looking out better.”

“I’m sorry we fought.”

“I’m sorry, too.”

We’re quiet for a while as I gather courage. “Monty, are… are you all right?”

Though I damn well know the answer.

To my great surprise, though, he shakes his head, starting to cry harder.

“Is it all right if I take a look, a bit farther from the edge?”

“What, have you got a sudden fear of heights?”

“You did say you weren’t going to catch me anymore.”

As I take his hand and support him as we walk away, he whispers: “I couldn’t if I wanted to.”

It takes me ten more minutes of gentle coaxing before he finally lets me take off his coat. Then, it takes everything I have in me not to faint right away.

“D-does it look bad?” he whispers, voice thin as thread.

I blink a few times to make the ground stop spinning away from under my feet. “It doesn’t look good,” I say, voice spiking all over the place.

In truth, it looks _horrifying_ . All the bones are still there, though some are broken, which I can only tell by the fact that I can _see them_. Scorched feathers are clinging to them pathetically, though most of them are gone. A few flutter down before my eyes, falling down like ash grey snow. The back of Monty’s shirt is torn away, and I’m not sure if the dark marks on his back are soot marks, burns, or dried up blood.

“I’m going to murder your father,” I say, and I damn mean it. I might as well have, if Felicity had not shown up at that exact moment, a first aid kit already in her hands. She beelines for Monty and instantly takes control of the situation, though she’s pale as the moon looking down on us.

“Percy, call an ambulance. _And_ the police,” she tells me. “He’s not getting away with this.”

Monty whimpers.

When I’m done with my call, I sit down in front of him. He’s still avoiding eye contact. He’s got dark smudges all over him, and I notice a bit of his hair has burned away. He flinches occasionally as Felicity’s working.

“How am I going to explain this?” he asks, and there’s terror in his eyes. “They’re going to lock me up somewhere.”

“No, Monty, darling.” I take his hands in mine. “We’re not going to let that happen. Everything’s going to work out. I promise.”

“B-but…” Fresh tears make their ways down his cheeks. “M-my Father, he’s going- he won’t let me-”

“ _Screw_ him. Monty, the police are on their way, and I’d fight him myself if he’d _think_ about stopping us. I might fight him even if he didn’t, because I swear to God, I…”

He smiles, teary-eyed.

I want to be the better person in the situation. Monty’s struggling and he needs to be able to count on me, but I can’t help but slip into a moment of self-loathing. “This is all my fault.”

He looks tired. “No, Perce, it wasn’t-”

“I should have been looking out better. I shouldn’t have started a fight. I shouldn’t have…”

“Kissed me?”

Behind him, I see Felicity tense up, but she says nothing of it.

I swallow. “...Maybe.”

“I’m glad you did, though.”

I look up.

“I’m glad you kissed me,” he repeats, “because I’ve been going mad with wanting to kiss you for years now. And because you were honest… It _wasn’t_ a laugh to me. Dear God, Perce, that’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. I’m crazy about you.”

We stare at each other for a moment, then we start smiling, until we’re beaming at each other like fools. And it’s hard to feel anything positive in circumstances like this one, but if - _once_ we put this all behind us, it’s going to be the most amazing feeling in the world.

“I’m crazy about you, too.”


	2. Chapter 2

One Year Later

I hear voices coming from inside when I get home. I frown. I didn’t know we were expecting anyone. I close the door behind me and put down my fiddle case.

“...being careful?”

“I’m always careful, darling. Besides, they’re healing  _ fine _ . All the doctors are saying that.”

“They always could’ve missed something.”

“They didn’t, why are you so- wait. Felicity, are you  _ worried _ about me?”

“I am  _ not _ .”

The indignation in her voice makes me smile even before I enter the room. Monty’s sitting on our bed, his sister next to him, as she’s examining his wings. They both look up when I enter. Monty lights up when he sees me.

“Felicity,” I say. “I had no idea you were visiting.”

“Darling!” Monty exclaims. He perks up, stretching his wings a little and accidentally poking Felicity in the face with one. She makes an undignified noise and shoves him. “Watch it!”

Monty gives her an apologetic smile. Then, to me: “You’re home early.”

“Class got cancelled,” I say. “How was your check-up?”

“The professional one, or the one I just got from my sister?”

That gets him a scowl from Felicity. She stands up, brushing off her clothes. “Fine. Next time when I find something’s wrong with you I’ll just  _ not _ tell you.”

“And let me suffer?” Monty puts his hand to his heart in drama. “You could never do that to your favorite older brother.”

“Watch me.” Felicity picks up her bag from where it was resting on the floor. She passes by where I’m leaning against the doorframe.

“Don’t let Monty’s ill manners scare you away,” I say. “He loves you dearly.”

Both siblings give me a deadly look.

Then Felicity loosens up. “Nah, I just have to leave. I have an appointment at the University in…” she checks the time on her phone, “twenty minutes. So I really have to go.”

I nod. “Good luck.”

She gives me a grateful smile. “Thank you.”

“Don’t burn the place down if they reject you!” Monty calls after her, and she sends him one peeved look before leaving.

I stare absent-mindedly at the door for a while, before letting myself fall down on my back next to Monty. I sigh deeply.

“I thought your class got cancelled. Why are you so tired, then?”

“Because I could’ve slept late and  _ not _ do the whole trip to school and back for no reason if they’d let me known in time.”

He lies down on his side next to me. “You poor soul.”

I roll my eyes at him with a smile. “But for real. Everything still okay with your wings?”

He shrugs. “Same as always. Never gonna be the same, but it’s healing.” His expression turns annoyed. “The press made an appearance, though.”

“Really? It’s been a year, and they still aren’t leaving you alone?”

“Nope.”

“Ugh. I  _ hate _ them.”

“Aah, don’t be too sour on them. You know the public following my every step is my only reassurance the government won’t lock me in some secret lab to dissect me.”

I shiver. “Don’t say things like that.”

His eyes soften. He throws an arm over my chest and rests his head on my shoulder. “You can say  _ I told you so _ , though.”

“Huh?”

I can’t see his eyes. “You know.” He’s quiet now. “When you told me… on the roof, that night… that everything would turn out okay.”

At the mere mention of that, a series of unpleasant imagery flashes before my eyes. Monty’s father, refusing to look at me. Monty, sitting at the edge of the building, crying. The sight of his wings burned and broken, that I’m never going to be able to forget.

I’m tensing up, and Monty can tell. He lifts his head to look at me, resting his head on my chest. “We’re okay, aren’t we?”

I bite my lip. It was hell. It took a year of media storms and endless hospital visits and a court case and moving halfway across the country, but… the dust is finally starting to settle. We’re finally settling into a new normal. And what a new normal it is. Monty, Felicity, Adrian and their mother never have to see Mr Montague again. I’ve started on college. Monty has a job at a coffee shop that he really enjoys. The two of us are sharing an apartment. I get to wake up in his arms every morning.

“We are,” I say, and I mean it.

He smiles at me, eyes brighter than I ever thought they could be again, after everything. For a moment, I just look at him, taking in how gorgeous he is. His hair is messy and so are his wings - but they’re healing. Monty’s healing. Piece by piece, step by step. It’s taken pain and tears and doctor after doctor and us fighting and making up again, it’s taken convincing Monty to start on therapy and convincing him not to quit every time he’s feeling particularly down, it’s taken heart attacks when I find him on the roof sometimes, staring at the sky in something that isn’t quite longing. It’s been climbing a mountain and every now and then placing a foot wrong and falling all the way back down, it’s been relapses and hugs and late night conversations, souls exposed and raw, it’s been giving up and getting back up and taking on day by day.

The road behind us is long, the one before us even longer, but it’s okay, because we’ve got each other.

“Monty?”

“Hm?” He’s closed his eyes, starting to doze off in my arms.

“Remember when… you asked me… why I thought you were born like this? When you said you… felt like there was something you weren’t living up to.”

It feels years ago. He’s opened his eyes, and is looking at me intently. “...Yeah?”

“Do you still feel like that sometimes?”

He averts his eyes, and that’s enough answer. “...Sometimes,” he says.

I start threading my fingers through his hair. “I… I’m not about to claim I know the why. But I guess I just want you to know that… to me, you’ve never been disappointing.”

He cocks an eyebrow at me, in disbelief but smiling. “Right.”

“I mean it.” I sit up against the back of the bed, not letting go of him. “You never disappointed me. There were difficult moments, that’s true, but I never gave up hope. I never gave up on you. And you’ve made it worth my while. I… You’ve never let me down, Monty. I promise. And look where we are today!” I gesture around. “If anything, you’ve amazed me.”

He pulls a face as if he’s about to cry.

“I don’t know who it is you were supposed to be, or what you were supposed to do. No one does. But that just means you get to decide it for yourself, right? And, well... “ I feel my face heating up. “I suppose you are sort of my guardian angel.”

He’s been looking as if he’s been torn between crying or kissing me, but then, he burst out laughing. I go even further red, hiding my face behind my hands.

“Oh my god.”

“Don’t laugh! We were having a moment!”

“Perce, that is the  _ sappiest _ thing you’ve ever said to me.  _ Guardian angel _ . Oh my god.”

“Hey!”

I throw my arms around him and press him against me. He protests, trying and failing to squirm away. After a bit, his laughter mellows into a fond smile.

“I love you, you know,” he says softly.

“At times like these I doubt it.”

“Aw, come on. I tease you  _ because _ I love you.”

“Hmm.”

“Not convinced?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Well then.” He relaxes into my hold, putting down his knees on either side of my waist. He leans down, so his lips almost touch mine when he talks. “Let me convince you, then.”

He kisses me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a little fluff to make up for my previous angst crimes. this is also the first fic I'm posting that has more than one chapter!! which isn't that special but I'm just super excited to post more and longer, multi-chaptered fics in the future. I'm already working on some really fun stuff and I look forward to being able to post it! for now: thank you for reading, and hope you all have a lovely day <3

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!! Expect a fluffy little epilogue appearing sometime soon.


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